


Angels Don't Kill Themselves

by EzzyAlpha



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Afterlife, And other death tropes, Body Horror, Dead People, Death, Gen, Interactive Fic, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 13:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyAlpha/pseuds/EzzyAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy is no angel, despite what the wings may lead you to think. She is a soul trapped in the world of the living, unable to be seen by them. She doesn't remember anything substantial from her previous life except her name and a memory of flying and vodka. Can she get her memories back and move on?</p><p>[This is an interactive fic in which the readers influence the story!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

The sun set in the city, the fog that permanently tainted the vision of those outside the living world acquiring a peculiar orange tint. On the very top of the radio tower, a lone woman with dark wings and platinum hair perched herself, the bandages around her body fluttering in the wind. She wiped the blood dripping from her mouth and sighed loudly.

**> BE THE STRANGE WOMAN**

Your name is Roxy. You don’t remember your last name. In fact, you don’t remember much of your previous life.

You remember flying. You remember the scream of a child. You remember booze.

Man, you’d kill for a drink right now. You sigh and stand up, looking around the city. You can see as far as the limits, but everywhere else is fog. Even the sky is permanently covered. Your only measure of time is public clocks and the tint of the fog. It’s red right now.

You dab at your mouth. It’s running more than usual, must be the altitude. The blood that drips out your mouth continuously smells and tastes like vodka, but you can’t get drunk on it. Unfortunately. You spread your wings and they crack satisfyingly. A loose flight feather falls down into the traffic bellow.

You scratch your nose with a pink talon and yawn.

**> ROXY: WHAT ARE YOU?**

To put it simply: You’re dead.

_[This is an interactive fanfic, in the manner of the earlier MSPAdventures! Leave a comment with a prompt to influence the characters and plot! Not all prompts are selected, only the most interesting and in character ones, but I’ll try to use as many as possible in one chapter. If by the due date there are no new prompts, I will continue the story with my own prompt.]_

_[Current Chapter Due Date: September 18 2012, 8 PM GMT. Make sure you submit all prompts you want before the date passes!]_


	2. Part 2

_[As no prompts were received, I will continue it myself]_

**> EXPLAIN YOURSELF IN DETAIL**

Fine.

As mentioned previously, your name is Roxy. You are a lost soul, trapped in the living world but unable to interact with it. The living can’t sense you in any way.

You have dark feathered wings, roughly 3 feet across each and bright pink talons instead of nails. These are the less human features you have. Your attire consists of black stockings, a short skirt and a faded with shirt with a tag. That tag has your name on it. You are also draped and covered in bandages that fall freely at the ends. These bandages are very tight and you are unable to take them off. You have a tendency to bleed from the mouth even though you have no visible wounds, so you assume it is produced on your salivary glands. You have no logical explanation for being able to fly, though.

Speaking of which, your skill includes vast knowledge of varied sciences and the ability to break anything that works on electricity. This is the only way you can affect the human old.

Though you cannot remember how old you were when you died, Dirk says you look the same age as him and he is-was 22 years old.

Besides yourself and him, you know 12 other lost souls though they are not important at the moment.

**> EXPLAIN YOUR SURROUNDINGS**

This is the city. You do not know where the city is, you do not know any place outside the city (though Dirk speaks of places like Houston and New York) and you do not even know what your relation to this city is.

It’s cold and grey and rainy. You don’t know if it’s like this for everyone or just the dead. You usually perch yourself on this radio tower when you don’t feel like doing anything. You don’t sleep but sometimes it’s good to close your eyes and pretend.

You usually mentally divide the city into five parts, the first being the radio tower and surroundings.

The second is the local college and the neighborhoods around it. There’s someone you like to see there.

The third is downtown, the big busy place with lots of traffic, people and stores full of pretty clothes to like to look at. Dirk told you about a strange commotion there but you haven’t felt like checking it out.

The fourth is the docks. That’s where Dirk hangs out.

The fifth and final one is what you like to call Ghost Town. It’s the old abandoned area of the city. Lost souls like to hang out there because there’s no chance of someone using their abilities and causing a stir with the living. And also because some of these lost souls get pretty pissed at the living, given they’re just shadows of life and all. This is also the place where the only living person you know that can sense the lost souls live.

You should really get going somewhere. You’re tired of sitting here like you’re roosting, you feel like a chicken.

_[Current Chapter Due Date: September 19 2012, 1 AM GMT. Make sure you submit all prompts you want before the date passes!]_


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >MEET DIRK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to AceyEnn for the prompt!

**> MEET UP WITH DIRK**

You dash off the tower and effortlessly glide towards the docks. The sky is becoming less saturated and shades of violet start to appear in the fog. It’s actually quite pretty. You’re a big afraid it’ll rain before you get to the docks; Dirk isn’t so fond of rain.

You can see the sea now. It’s huge and black, tendrils reaching into the beach and smacking against the wood of the boardwalk. Dirk tells you this is not what the ocean is supposed to look like, how horrible and sickening it is to see it reduced to this state.

You think he’s full of shit because he still lives here after all.

You silently glide onto the boat house. Salty air enters your lungs with force now that you’re so much closer to the water, but at least you’re not continuously drizzling blood now. You jump down the hole in the ceiling and Dirk gives you a short wave.

In his samurai armor and pointy shades, he looks pretty ridiculous.

“Remember anything new?”

Oh my god, will this guy ever shut up about remembering.

“Dirky, have you considered I might not want to remember?”

He makes a sound like a strangled rooster and you giggle to yourself. Dirk is too serious. It’s not like he can die again or something, you have eternity to remember.

“Have you been wasting time following her around?”

“Maybe.”

“Why do you even do that? She doesn’t know you’re there, she’s nothing to you.”

“How do you know? Maybe she’s one of my important peoples from my big bad past.”

Dirk propped his head on his hand and sighed.

“If it was so, you’d have remembered a lot by now.”

“Like you and Dave?”

At the mention of his brother, Dirk’s posture slips up and he slips forward. His head wobbles and a thin string of blood drips from his neck down his armor. He wipes it off and glares at you.

“Yes, like my brother.”

You shake your head.

“The Dirk I used to know wouldn’t sit around moping in a boat house forever. He’d go out there and fight.”

“The Dirk you knew didn’t remember.”

A laugh dies at your lips.

“And you want me to remember.”

He stares at you, really stares, like he’s trying to read your face as a map.

“Go talk to Aradia or something.” He mutters “If you think that girl is of any importance to you.”

“Go stalk Dave.”

He almost drops his head but catches it at the last minute. You grumble.

“It’ll be good for you. Check on him.”

“I suppose.”

Well, it won’t be good for you to hang around with Dirk all day, especially as he seems to be in one of those moods. Perhaps you should do something else.

_[Current Chapter Due Date: September 19 2012, 11 AM GMT. Make sure you submit all prompts you want before the date passes!]_


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >Be Dirk  
> >Stalk Dave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Angel for the prompt!

**> BE DIRK**

You are now Dirk Strider.

Unlike your friend Roxy, you remember your previous life and you like it that way. Well, technically you remember most of it.

You were an engineer and robotics expert and the sole caretaker of your younger brother Dave. Though you cannot remember your actual death, you have hypothesized, based on your decapitated head, the wound on your stomach and the samurai armor bound to you by the afterlife that the Yakuza you dealt in business with got a little tired of your shenanigans.

Your only effect in the world of the living is that you can affect metal of any sorts. It’s particularly versatile. You have tried to use it, with little success, to communicate with your brother Dave.

Speaking of which, you should check on him.

You get up and look around the boat house you dwell in, glance outside. It’s nearly night time.

That makes it just the perfect time to visit him. You dislike showing up when he’s hanging out with friends so you don’t.

**> DIRK: STALK DAVE**

That’s preposterous; you do not stalk your brother. It’s your duty to make sure everything is okay with him

You leave the boat house. The sea is as terrifying as always. You can see seagulls circling in the sky but they look more like vultures.

You dash to the apartment complex where your brother resides with his adoptive family.

It’s one of those fancy neighborhoods with gatekeepers and porters.

With one leap you jump to the seventh floor and grab onto a gargoyle. You peek inside the window.

Dave is at his computer drawing a shitty comic. You smile. The few shitty comics you have been able to see were cool.

The window is closed, leaving you to perch on the window sill outside.

Dave takes a break from comics to go shit around on his turn tables. The door opens and your heart drops. It’s his adoptive mother.

“Dave dear, I think it’s time you stopped playing your music, it’s getting pretty late.”

The kid shrugs and flips switches and presses buttons, turning off the tables completely. You feel anger bubbling in your stomach, how dare that woman tell YOUR brother what to do.

“It’s too hot in here, this isn’t good for you.” says the woman and she walks over to the window. She opens it and you hate her a little less as you slip through and sit on the corner. The woman leaves the room, closing the door behind her and Dave goes back to the computer.

You sit against the wall watching him type.

_[Current Chapter Due Date: September 19 2012, 11 PM GMT. Make sure you submit all prompts you want before the date passes!]_


End file.
